The Boy who Cried Wolf
by BrandSpankingNew
Summary: Dean drove almost 700 miles during 'Mannequin 3:The Reckoning' in an attempt to protect Lisa and Ben, and he wasn't very happy about the wild goose chase. Or any of this, really. Because you can't go back, and some things can't be fixed, and it freaking hurts. Warnings: Spanking, language, more inside.


Author's Note: This is my first foray into the _Supernatural_ fandom and it was meant to be a fluffy little family thing. Then everyone got angsty. Sorry.

Tag to _Mannequin 3:The Reckoning_

 **Warnings** : **Spanking** , **language** , **mild** **allusions to past child abuse** and a shitload of **abandonment issues**. I do not condone corporal punishment of children in real life.

Please read and review. And don't be a dick.

* * *

Dean's phone rang again, for the fourth time today. He lifted it to check the caller ID. LISA, it read. He started to put it down when Sam shot a glare at him.

"Answer it," Sam demanded tiredly.

Dean took a deep breath. He'd have to face it sometime, he guessed. He brought the phone up to his ear.

"Lisa?" he said.

"Finally. I've been calling," a young voice answered. Definitely not Lisa.

"Ben? What are you -"

Ben sounded jittery. "Something's wrong with Mom," he forced out.

Dean's heart stuttered in his chest. "What are you talking about?" he demanded.

"It's bad, Dean," the boy replied. His heart flipped again. _Remember_ , he told himself, _kids have a different idea of bad. It might be OK._

"Define "bad,"" Dean said tersely. He glanced over at Sam, who was watching him and chewing on his lower lip.

Ben took a shaky breath. "I-I don't know. S-she won't talk to me." Dean could hear the anxiety in Ben's voice.

 _You're the adult here Dean,_ he reminded himself grimly. Wasn't that a laugh. He shook his head a little. "All right, put her on the phone," he ordered. He didn't want to talk to Lisa, not really, considering the way he'd left, but he'd do it for Ben.

"She won't come to the phone," Ben said with a definite little whine in his voice.

Dean glared up at the ceiling and pulled out his best no-nonsense tone, stolen from John Winchester himself. "Ben, get your mom and put her on the phone."

"I-I-I can't. Her door's locked. She barely gets out of bed. I'm not kidding. Please just - just come help me. I-I don't know what to do." Ben sounded scared and so young. Dean's heart twisted painfully in his chest.

He couldn't leave him like that. Ben was only eleven years old. If Lisa had lost it, he had a responsibility here. _Dammit_.

He glanced over at his brother, who was listening intently. Maybe Sam would have an idea. "All right, let me call you back," Dean said.

"Dean-" Ben interrupted.

"Five minutes," Dean promised brusquely, and he shut the phone before his almost-stepson could get out a reply. He turned to Sam and gave him an exasperated glare.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, crossing towards him.

"It's Lisa," he said grimly. "Ben says she's locked herself in her room and won't come out."

"What?" Sam said incredulously. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. He told me he doesn't know what to do." Dean took a deep breath. "He sounds pretty scared."

"Well, what are _you_ going to do?" Sam asked. He had the look on his face that Dean hated; the one that said he knew exactly what Dean should do but Dean wouldn't like it.

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed. "What, Sam?"

Sam shook his head. "C'mon. You know exactly what."

Dean gritted his teeth. "No. No way. I'll call Lisa's sister. She can check on her."

"And what if it's something? Our kind of something? You want Ben's aunt to get eaten by a demon?" Sam demanded.

He thought about Jennifer, Lisa's sister. A sweet lady, kind as the day was long but slightly naive. No, if something was wrong with Lisa, he had his doubts that Jen would have any idea how to help. Even if it was something as run-of-the-mill and mundane as depression. That could kill a person just as quickly as a demon. "Goddammit," he hissed.

Sam started to herd him towards the door. "Just go check," he said cajolingly. "I'm a big boy now Dean. I'm pretty sure I can handle this without you holding my hand."

They walked through a short labyrinth of hallways. "Sam, I didn't even talk to her," Dean said. "If she's locked in her room because she's pissed at me, I don't think showing up out of nowhere is gonna help."

"Maybe not," Sam admitted. He opened the door to outside and gestured at Dean. "But Ben's scared and it sounds like he's alone and freaking out. Like it or not, that's basically your kid and your problem. You can't leave a kid to fend for himself like that."

"We did," Dean said, but not with any conviction.

"Yeah, and that was _great_ for us," Sam said sarcastically. "I thought you wanted better for him."

Dean glared at Sam, but he couldn't deny that his brother was right. He sighed and glanced at Baby, who was waiting patiently right where he'd left her.

"Come on, man, I-I can't just leave," Dean tried one more time.

Sam gave him a spectacular bitch face. "Dude, you've got to leave."

Dean retorted, "Yeah, but we're talking life or death here." He really did not want to have to face off with Lisa again. Not after how he'd left them last time. She was as likely to tear him a new one as to invite him in.

Sam just rolled his eyes. "Right. I can handle it for 24 hours, Dean." The look he sent was very sharp. "I get you want to bury it. But I had to deal with my past year. You've got to deal with yours." There was little sympathy in his brother's voice.

"Oh, yeah, and that worked so great for you," Dean snarked.

Sam just shook his head and gestured at the car. "Come on."

Dean got in the Impala and pulled out his phone. He hit the speed dial for Lisa.

"Hello?" Ben answered breathlessly on the first ring. He'd obviously been waiting for Dean to return his call as promised.

"Are you alright? Safe?" Dean demanded. "You've got food?" He could remember being eleven, thirteen, fifteen and running out of food and money while Dad hunted. He remembered well how awful it felt rationing food between Sammy and himself, being hungry and scared that this time, Dad might not be back. If Ben was in that situation, his next call was going to be to the cops and damn the consequences.

"Yeah," Ben said quietly. He sounded surprised and a little sad. "Yeah, of course. But...are you coming? Please, Dean, tell me you're coming," the boy said desperately.

Dean sighed and committed, starting the car. "Yes. I'm on my way."

* * *

The drive was long. Over 10 hours. Nearly 700 miles. It was a lot of time for Dean to think, and to worry. By the time he drove up to the house, his stomach was in knots.

He turned Baby off and gazed up at the house. It was dark now, and all the shades were drawn. _At least Ben listened to my instructions,_ he thought. He didn't want any unfriendly things taking a peek inside the house. Not ever, but especially if Lisa was locked in her bedroom like Rapunzel in her tower.

He opened the car door and stiffly climbed out. His last pit stop had been three hours back, a short break to caffeinate and take a piss. He stretched slowly, aware he was procrastinating but afraid of the reaction Lisa might have to seeing him break into her bedroom. _That doesn't make me a coward_ , he defended internally. _That makes me a smart man._

But he also knew that Ben was waiting for him not ten feet away, and that he'd promised that he would come. Taking a deep breath, he walked to the door and rang the doorbell multiple times.

The door opened quickly, but the greeter was not who he'd expected.

"Dean, what are you doing here?" Lisa asked, her face shifting from happiness when she opened the door to something else once she laid eyes on him.

Dean just stared for a short moment. Lisa looked beautiful, wearing a short black dress and tasteful jewelry, her hair pulled back with tendrils dangling on each side of her face. "Well," he said, fighting an internal sense of shock, "you look absolutely fine." He took an extra second to check out her cleavage. Lisa looked way better than fine, actually. She looked _damned_ fine.

Lisa furrowed her brow in confusion. "What's going on?" she demanded.

Dean let out a frustrated whoosh of air. "We've been 'parent trapped,'" he said darkly.

"What?" Lisa said.

"Ben sent out a 911," Dean replied, with a little flick of his chin towards the stairs.

Lisa gave a tiny shake of her head. "Why would he do that?" she said quietly, almost to herself. Dean couldn't help the little smirk that touched his features.

"You're going on a date, huh?" he said shrewdly, more than certain he knew exactly what was happening here and not in the least happy about it.

Lisa seemed to mull it over in her head for a moment before coming to the same irritating conclusion that he had. "Come in," she said, resigned.

He followed her inside, looking around. Not much had changed, really. Ben was nowhere to be seen, he noticed.

Lisa took his jacket and hung it up neatly where it had always hung. She grabbed an old cardigan from the hall closet and slipped it on before entering the kitchen and pulling a beer from the fridge. She handed it to him without a word.

He seated himself on one of the kitchen stools and opened it, taking a long pull before he realized that Lisa hadn't grabbed one for herself. She was pacing uncomfortably in the small space of the kitchen.

"You want to sit down?" Dean asked.

Lisa shook her head slightly. "Not so much," she replied matter-of-factly.

 _Awkward_. "So, who's the guy?" he asked,quirking his eyebrows. Jesus Christ, it was like pulling teeth.

The look she gave him was as cold as the beer he was drinking. "'Who's the guy?'" She paused for a long moment, then gave a little shrug. "His name is Matt. He's a doctor." _As unlike me as possible_ , Dean thought, and it hit him like a knife to the gut.

"Oh, Dr. Matt. How respectable," Dean said mockingly, knowing immediately that he was being an ass but unable to control it.

Lisa apparently agreed, if her scathing tone meant anything. "Really? That's how this is gonna be?"

Fuck, he hadn't meant to do that. "Look, I-I -"

She cut him off. "I called you six times, Dean."

"And I almost called you back about 100," Dean retorted, as all those nights of staring at his phone and debating with himself flashed through his brain. He'd been trying to protect them, goddammit!

"Good to know," she said flatly with a fake little smile. Fuck, this was killing him. She was right here, and yet she couldn't be further away.

"Lis, Ben called me. I dropped everything and ran. If you want to know if I care -" Dean was struggling, trying so hard to put his feelings into words. She knew well that Dean wasn't a words kind of guy. Couldn't she just give a little here?

"Doesn't help me," she replied.

"What do you want from me?" Dean demanded. Could she make this any harder?

"I'm not asking for anything," Lisa said plainly.

His hold on his frustration snapped then, and he raised his voice. "Well, then ask for something!" His voice rang in the quiet of the house.

Behind him, he heard a rustle of fabric before Ben's voice said, "Um…"

Apparently on some things they still agreed. "Go to your room!" they chorused instantly, glaring towards the boy hovering in the doorway. In any other situation, it would have been funny, but he was in no laughing sort of mood. Dean tried to give the kid a hint of a smile, but nothing but a grimace made it out. Ben wisely turned right around and headed up the stairs.

Dean listened carefully, waiting to hear Ben's footsteps stop on the stairs. Apparently the kid's judgment wasn't _completely_ out of commission, though, because he practically flew up those stairs and into the relative safety of his room, and Dean heard his door click when it shut. At least they'd have some privacy for this agonizing conversation.

Lisa's posture drooped, and she finally took the other stool at the counter and settled into it. Her voice was low but full of restrained emotion. "You know, I...I can't. Ask for something. I know what I want. But I can't have it - Not how you live." Her eyes met his, and they looked as haunted as any graveyard. "My phone rings, I think - tiny chance it's you, big chance it's Sam calling to tell me you're dead."

His gut twisted again. "Lis…" He wanted nothing more than to beg for her forgiveness. But she cut him off.

"No, don't. Don't apologize or anything," she said sincerely. " It's just... It's just I get to this place where I'm okay, and then you show up at our door. You keep doing that, every time I think I'm never gonna see you again. I'm _trying_ to get over you." Dean searched her face, but he didn't see anything that gave him hope. She continued, "What are you trying to do? What do you want from us, Dean?"

What did he want? He wanted a million things. He wanted them both to be safe, to be protected from the wild things that go bump in the night. He wanted Lisa by his side, in his arms, in his bed. He wanted to play catch with Ben, to help him with his homework, to check on him every night before he went to sleep. And at least at this current moment, he also kind of wanted to beat the kid's ass for sending him on a 700-mile wild goose chase. He wanted, so badly, for them to be a normal, average family, where he and Lisa would argue over what color to paint the kitchen or when he needed to mow the lawn. To argue with Ben about bedtime or his utter inability to take out the trash without being reminded a hundred times. All the easy, normal things that most people got to have and took for granted.

Dean knew exactly what he wanted. But he also knew better. Not in this life, just like Lisa had said. He could have them with him, or he could keep them safe, but he couldn't have both. Love was about tearing his fucking heart from his chest and doing the right thing, rather than the easy one, because hunters never got the easy road.

Lisa's face softened minutely looking at him, and he couldn't help but wonder if the maelstrom of emotions tearing through his chest were written on his face somewhere. "Excuse me a second," she said, picking up her cell phone. She wandered into the living room, lifting it to her ear. Her voice was muffled but he could still make out her words.

"Hi Matt, it's Lisa. I know it's close to when you were coming, but something came up...with Ben. Is it ok if we reschedule?" There was a pause. "Yes, he's fine. He's not sick, just in a _lot_ of trouble. Uh huh. Thanks for understanding. I'll call you tomorrow, alright? Bye."

Dean took another drink from his beer as Lisa came back in. She sighed and walked over to the fridge, pulling out a second beer and twisting off the top. He watched her throat ripple as she swallowed. She then leaned against the counter for a moment. "What are we going to do," she muttered. It didn't sound like a question.

Dean raised his eyebrows. Lisa walked back to the stool and sat down, looking at him expectantly. "Uh…" Dean drew out, wondering exactly which problem she was talking about here.

"He can't be doing this," Lisa said. "This is hard enough without Ben trying to 'help.'"

On that, Dean agreed. Not only had the drive been long and stressful, but coming face to face with Lisa and Ben like this...god. He couldn't do this over and over. He gave a nod and took another drink from his beer so that he didn't need to come up with a response.

"You're going to have to talk with him," Lisa said. "I've talked with him over and over. Obviously he's not listening."

Dean couldn't hold back a bark of laughter. "You think he'd listen to me?" he said incredulously. "He just conned me into driving halfway across the country. He doesn't give a crap about what I think."

Lisa gave him a look. "Whether you like it or not, Ben looks up to you Dean. He called you because he thought you would fix it." Dean winced at that. He had loved that Ben had faith in him once, but now it burned like alcohol in an open wound. He was not a man to look up to. "Don't you think we've talked about why you left? Why you aren't coming back? God, I've talked about it almost every day, because Ben didn't take it well." She shook her head and idly picked at the label of her beer. "He insisted that you didn't hurt him when you pushed him in the hallway, that everything was fine."

"I'd been...infected," Dean said quietly. "It was dangerous for me to be there. I thought I was going to...to turn. Into a vampire. I could **hear** both of your hearts beating. I-I shouldn't have risked it." Dean swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat when Lisa's breath caught in her chest. "I just wanted to say goodbye, but I screwed everything up. I could have killed you both, and all because I was going soft." His words dripped with self-loathing.

He didn't look at her, but he could feel her eyes on him; he could sense the pain rolling off of her in waves.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked quietly, her voice unreadable.

"I hurt you both," Dean said, disgusted with himself. "What does it matter why?" He stared at the beer in his hand intently.

Lisa was quiet too. Maybe she agreed. Maybe she didn't. What did he know, after all?

She sighed. "You need to talk to him," she repeated.

Dean shook his head again. "I'm not in any place," he said.

"Why not?" Lisa demanded. "You're here, you may as well talk to him. You drove halfway across the country; you can't tell me you've got nothing you want to say to him about that."

Dean let out a grim snort. "Oh, I've got plenty to say, all right, but I don't think you'd approve of my methods." The funny thing was, he was nowhere near as pissed as he could have been. Mostly, it was just exasperation. Plenty of it, but he couldn't deny that seeing them both alive and well had soothed the savage beast that had paced in his chest for the last ten hours. Not that he was thrilled about the wild goose chase. "I've got half an urge to go full-on John Winchester on the kid."

Lisa shook her head. "No, Dean," she said,giving him a glare. He shrugged and took another pull off his beer. "You're not going to beat my son."

He sighed. "No, I'm not," he agreed. They had talked once or twice about how they had grown up. Lisa had been horrified at the blithe way he'd shrugged off many elements of his childhood: he and Sammy living out of motels, how his dad would sometimes leave for days or even weeks on end, the harsh punishments both boys had suffered when they screwed up. Dean didn't really understand why she thought it was so awful. It wasn't how ordinary kids lived, no, but they'd never been ordinary kids. He had been mostly a good and obedient kid by his father's standards, but he'd still been a kid. Dad was a Marine, and he'd been all about order and discipline, which he enforced with his hands and his belt if he thought it necessary. And Dean had never been an angel; he'd suffered more than a few times for one stupid stunt or another. Their life had been dangerous as hell and it was dad's way of trying to keep them safe, by teaching them unquestioning obedience. If that had to be from a healthy dose of fear, then so be it. He got that, now that he was an adult. Lisa had not seen it that way. "It's not my pla-"

"Listen, he conned you into an unscheduled road trip, and I get that you're mad, but that's too much. He deserves some punishment, but not like your dad used to dish out. He's just a-"

"I'm really not _that_ mad," Dean interrupted truthfully. Lisa gave him another disbelieving look.

"I would be!" she retorted.

He raised his hands defensively. "Honest, I'm not. I get why he did it, and I know he's just trying to fix things in his own way. I just don't want to be running out here every time you've got a date. He's gotta know it's not ok. We've all got to move on." _Even though it hurts._

Lisa sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Fine," she said tightly. "But you aren't your dad, Dean. So don't pretend you are. I know you better. I think that you're right; he's got a spanking coming to him. This stunt he pulled was ridiculous. But you're not giving him the 'John Winchester' treatment. You've got 15 seconds to make your point. Nothing crazy."

Dean blinked at her, too surprised to find words. "What?" he managed finally. He'd spouted off an empty threat. Her response was pretty much the last thing he'd expected. He must have misunderstood. "What are you saying?"

"I'm not the one who drove 10 hours to get here," Lisa pointed out. "Seems fitting that it would come from you. But you better keep it short. He's eleven. The fact that you're the one doing it is going to shock him enough."

Dean stared at Lisa, unsure of what to say. "You want me to spank him," he said disbelievingly. They'd been together for a couple years, and he'd never done more than yell at the kid a few times. Lisa had always dealt with it when something major came up as far as discipline went, and he'd mostly acted like he had no idea after the fact. Now they were apart, and Lisa wanted to pull out the big guns? "Are you serious?"

She stared him down, exasperated. "Do you want to be fielding another phone call like this in a couple of weeks?" Lisa demanded. "This is killing me. I can't keep doing this, Dean. So if that's what it takes, so be it."

Dean slowly nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line. Yeah, this was killing him too. Seeing her all dressed up, wrapped in that ratty cardigan, looking beautiful and exhausted. Seeing Ben, who had grown two inches since the last time he'd seen him. Seeing the house, which had been theirs once but now was only hers. He couldn't keep doing it either. And he could see her point, that Ben would think twice if it came from him. _Dammit_.

Dean sighed and reluctantly set his beer on the counter. "Fine," he said wearily. He rose to his feet, the weight of all this sitting heavy on his shoulders. "God, sometimes being the grown-up really sucks."

Lisa let out a little amused huff without words. Dean looked at her for a long moment, waiting for her to tell him she'd changed her mind. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Go on," she said.

Dean took a deep breath. "Alright." There was nothing left but to get this over with.

He left the kitchen slowly and started up the stairs with heavy feet. His stomach felt tight. How the hell had Dad dealt with this when he and Sammy were growing up? It had never seemed to bother him.

Then again, Dad usually was backed by fear, rage, or both. All the things they had ever been punished for could have had dire consequences. But Ben hadn't put anyone in danger, and Dean didn't feel either of those emotions. He felt exasperation, dread, and a hint of regret. _Well, he's not gonna call me again,_ Dean thought, _since he's gonna hate me and all._ It wasn't a pleasant thought.

He stood for a moment in front of Ben's closed bedroom door and took a deep, silent breath before raising his fist and rapping lightly. Ben didn't answer, and he opened the door.

The kid was perched on the end of his bed, playing a video game. Dean glanced at the screen; _Plants vs. Zombies._

"Well, that's ridiculous. Plants could never kill a zombie," he said mildly. Ben didn't even glance up at him.

"You think I'm gonna say "I'm sorry"?" Ben asked, his tone clearly combative. Dean reminded himself once again to breath. Ben could be so much like him sometimes, genetics notwithstanding, and not always in a pleasant way.

Dean let the smallest hint of sarcasm come out with his words. "And why would I think that? Because you lied to get me here?" Ben knew how he felt about lying, after all.

"It was an emergency," the boy said stubbornly,still staring at the screen in front of him.

"A date's not an emergency, Ben," Dean replied.

"It is if it's the third one. I watch TV. I know what that means," he said meaningfully.

Dean knew what that meant too, not that he and Lisa had ever waited that long. He couldn't say he was thrilled with the idea himself, but at the same time, he didn't really get a say in it. They weren't together any more. He cleared his throat a little and sat on the end of the bed next to Ben. "Well, your mom's a grown-up. She gets to go out," he said firmly.

Ben dropped the video game behind him and finally looked up into Dean's face. Confusion and pain were plain across it. "Why won't you come home? Can't you just say "I'm sorry" and then come back?" he pleaded. It was like a knife to the chest.

"I'm sorry. I can't," Dean said.

"Can't? Or won't?" Ben challenged.

"Both," Dean said. It hurt now, but it would be better in the long run to be a little harsh.

Ben's face twisted. "So, you hate Mom now?" he asked bitterly.

That, he had not expected, and his head jerked back in surprise. "What?" he exclaimed. "No. Come on." Surely the kid had to know that was bull.

"So it's me."

The shock of those words were like a physical blow to his chest. "Ben, stop it," he ground out.

Ben cut his words off. "Whatever I did, I'm sorry!" he begged.

"Listen to me," Dean interrupted roughly, his words slow and deliberate. "You didn't do anything. You understand that?" He tried to soften his tone. _The kid's only eleven,_ he reminded himself. "Look, one day you'll, uh...You'll get this when you're older." God, he was pulling _that_ bullshit out now. He'd always hated it as a kid.

The eye roll the boy sent his direction made his hands twitch. "Don't talk to me like I'm six," Ben replied acidly.

Dean took a deep breath. "Okay, fine," he replied, feeling his throat get tight as emotions clawed through his chest. "It's like this, then. Just 'cause you love someone doesn't mean you should stick around and screw up their life. So I can't be here." The words nearly stuck in his throat. God, he wanted to be here. But he couldn't.

"You think something will follow you home?" Ben asked. _If only it were that simple._

Dean shook his head and swallowed around the lump in his throat. "No. No, I don't, but I think my job turns me into somebody that can't sit at your dinner table. And if I stayed, you'd end up just like me." And that was one of Dean's worst nightmares.

"Why do you say it like you're so...bad?" Ben said softly, his eyes searching Dean's face.

"Well, trust me, I'm not someone you want to aim to be," Dean said gruffly.

"Don't I get a vote?" the boy protested.

Dean shook his head. "No, you don't. I'm sorry, Ben. But, you see, this way you got a shot at living whatever life you want. You know, pick one. Pick five. 'cause with me, there's just the one road. And that's not your road, kid." Dean sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face. "Not if there's anything I can do about it. Now stand up."

Ben crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly, a mulish look on his face that reminded Dean of Sam at his most hard-headed. He braced himself internally and put on his sternest game face.

"Now, Ben!" he barked. The kid jumped, and Dean wrapped his hand around the boy's upper arm and guided him in front of him so they were face to face. Ben stood there like a two-by-four, stiff and unyielding. "We need to talk about this crap you pulled," Dean said firmly, putting a hand on each shoulder so Ben had no choice but to pay attention.

"I was trying to fix things!" Ben said petulantly. "If you hadn't just ran off-"

"This is not your job to fix," Dean said, cutting him off. "It's one of those things that _can't_ be fixed. And you lying to get me out here? Didn't help anything." He stared at the kid intently, but he only saw anger in the boy's features. "That's not ok, Ben. What if you call again, and next time there's actual trouble? How would I know? Obviously I'm no mind reader. If you call with an emergency now, I'm gonna have to wonder if you're trying to pull something like this again. You ever hear of 'the boy who cried wolf?' You want me questioning if that's what you're doing? Especially if there's real trouble?"

That must have hit the kid; he still looked pissed off, but it was mixed with worry now too, and Ben was shaking his head a little, his eyes intent on the bedspread. Dean squeezed his shoulders.

"Look at me, Ben," he demanded, and he waited until Ben's eyes managed to meet his. It felt different on the, for a lack of a better word, _parental_ side of the conversation, but it was still unpleasant. "I _can't_ be wasting time thinking like that, that you could just be yanking my chain. Not when it comes to you or your mom. Your safety, hell, your life could be at stake! If I waste time 'cause I think you're screwing with me..." Dean's stomach flipped painfully, and he cut off that line of thought before he could finish it. "It's just too freaking dangerous. So here's your only warning."

Before he could think too much, he took Ben's arm and turned the small body over his thigh. He brought his palm down fast, landing a hard smack to the kid's backside. Ben let out a loud, surprised squawk and threw his hand back. Dean had expected it though, having not completely forgotten how it felt to be on the other end of this painful task and he caught the hand and pulled it out of the way before laying down half a dozen more.

Ben let out a pained yell, kicking his legs out in an attempt to squirm away. "Oww!" he protested frantically. "Dean, stop!"

Dean dropped four more swats as swift and stinging as the rest before pulling Ben back to his feet, his hands gripping the kid's shoulders again so he could see the boy's face. Had he been too harsh? Not harsh enough? This message needed to be crystal clear, for everyone's sake.

Ben's hands flew back to rub some of the sting from his rear end. He took a shuddering breath. Dean could see a glaze of unshed tears in his eyes. "What was that?" Ben demanded, his voice slightly shaky.

Sarcastic responses flitted through Dean's brain but he forcefully tamped them down. "Like I said," Dean replied sternly, "a warning."

Ben's eyes went wide. "That didn't feel like a warning," he mumbled sourly, sounding more than a little perturbed.

"Oh trust me, it was," Dean replied darkly. Now was the time to hammer that home. "'Cause Ben? If you call me up again and tell me there's an emergency? You know I'm gonna come out here. And if I get here and there's no emergency, I swear to you that I'll give you an ass-whupping that makes that little spanking you just got seem pleasant. Do you understand me?"

Ben looked caught between the urge to bawl and pure fury. "That's not fair!" he choked out,his face twisting. Dean's stomach churned.

It _wasn't_ fair. He should be here. Protecting them. But he couldn't do that, because he was nearly as dangerous to them as the things he hunted.

Life had never been fair, not for a Winchester.

"Fair or not, that's how it's gonna be," Dean said grimly. "No more lying to me, pulling me out here for no reason. If you need help, if something happens, you _know_ I'll be here. But cut the bull. Because I'm not kidding about that ass-whupping. You hear me?"

He studied Ben, whose lip was trembling, face red. For the life of him, he couldn't tell what the kid was thinking. Those brown eyes glared at him accusingly.

"You're a liar, Dean," Ben said flatly.

Dean felt his eyebrows jump nearly to his hairline. "Excuse me?" he said, a touch of warning in his voice. Kid was bold as brass, everything considered. He sure as hell wouldn't have spoken to Dad like that, if he were in Ben's situation.

The boy ploughed on. "You say family's so important, but - but what do you call people who - who care for you, who love you even when you're a dick?"

Dean schooled his face even as his heart sank. Pain and sadness and anger just hemorrhaged out of the kid in front of him, and there was nothing he could do to make it right.

"You know you're walking out on your family, right?" Ben accused.

God, did he know it. And no matter what he said or how he tried to explain it, he could see in Ben's eyes that he'd never really understand. How could he? He was eleven, and the only father-figure he'd ever known was walking away. Ben couldn't see that it was one of the hardest fucking things Dean had ever had to do.

"Yes," Dean said, his voice hard. A physical ache thrummed through his chest, but he ignored it. "But that's how it's going to be."

Ben's face screwed up and he clenched his fists in a silence that seemed to last forever. Suddenly, he shoved Dean's hands violently off his shoulders. Dean let him, startled by the fury evident in those jerky movements.

"You suck!" Ben yelled angrily, and dove past him, flopping face down on the mattress and burying his face in the bedspread. "Go away then!"

He stared over his shoulder at Ben, whose entire body was shaking with the force of the sobs he was trying to suppress. "I said go!" the boy yelled, his voice muffled by the fabric.

Dean felt like he was going to throw up. He just wanted to grab the kid, hug him and apologize, tell him that it was breaking him into pieces to have to walk away. He wanted to say that he'd stay, that they would fix it. But even as the impulse gripped him, he knew it was a lie. To keep him, to keep _them_ safe, he had to go.

He stood up abruptly and turned away from the dramatic display. Nothing he could actually do would help. "I'm sorry," he breathed softly. Ben probably didn't even hear it over his own sobbing breath. _Fuck_.

He walked into the hall and shut the door softly behind him. He could hear Ben crying through the door. He felt a little like crying himself, honestly. He covered his face with his hand and let out a long sigh.

He squared his shoulders and turned towards the stairs, only to come face to face with Lisa, who was standing there watching him with an unreadable expression. _I didn't hurt him,_ he wanted to say, but that was obviously a bold faced lie. "I didn't…" he said instead in a low voice, but he wasn't sure how to finish it. _Didn't beat him? Didn't explain why I had to go?_ What the hell was the right thing to say? _I didn't_ want _to break his fucking heart. But I did._

"I know," she replied, just as quietly. "I was right here."

He gave a little nod of acknowledgement and walked past her, starting down the stairs. She followed him down.

"Do you want to finish your beer?" she asked quietly, no indication in her voice of her own preference. Dean shook his head and swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat.

"I need to go," he said, and if he sounded a little hoarse, Lisa didn't comment. She gave a nod of her head. He reached into the hall closet and pulled his jacket from its customary place and jerked it on. "I'm sorry."

"Drive safe," she said. They shared a long look, and Dean broke it first. He nearly fled out the door.

He heard it close behind him as he walked down the porch steps, and the finality of the lock clicking shut nearly took his breath away.

He deliberately didn't look back at the house as he got in his car and started her up. Baby purred softly as he pulled away.

It was going to be a long drive back to New Jersey.


End file.
